Milking the Babysitter

A short excerpt from Milking the Babysitter:

No-one spoke. I could only hear the thudding of my heart. This was so, so weird. I didn’t know much about babysitting, but I knew this was not part of the job description. I also knew that I should immediately stand up, tell them I wasn’t here for that and leave. But I didn’t.

It was partly out of fear of making a scene, partly due to not wanting to let down Helena, or my mother, but, if I’m honest, it was mainly due to the fact that Dean’s strong hand on my thigh was sending tingles through my body and Stacey’s perfume was causing my senses to reel.

“Dean,” said Stacey, slowly moving her hand along my thigh, under the hem of my skirt. “Why don’t you kiss Alissa. I think she’d like that.”

I shook my head, but Alissa placed a slender finger on my lips. At the same time, I felt Dean slide his hand under my skirt too. As I mumbled something about how this wasn’t right, Stacey leaned in and kissed me, soft and full, on my lips. I felt her sigh as she kissed me, and a wave of confusion and pleasure swept over me. This was wrong, wasn’t it! I had never kissed a woman before, had never even thought about it, but Stacey’s kiss was so soft, so tender, so wonderful, I was blown away.

I wanted more. I leaned in to kiss her and she smiled as I bent towards her, yielding her lips to mine. We pressed together, her hand now on my thigh, and I could feel my pussy tingling. What was happening to me! I didn’t know, but I didn’t care. I wanted to kiss her over and over and not stop kissing her. And I wanted her to move her hand up higher, wanted to feel her touch my pussy.

At that moment, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and then warm breath. I felt Dean kissing my exposed neck and his hand slipping up inside my sweatshirt. Stacey pulled away, a wicked smile on her lips.

“I think someone is jealous,” she said. “Why don’t you see how good a kisser Dean is?”

I was still intoxicated by her lips and her scent, and I did as I was told, turning to turn and looking up at him, nervously. He didn’t hesitate. His kissing was more urgent than Stacey’s. He pressed his lips on mine, hard, without the gentle, lingering touch of his wife, and as he kissed me, I felt one of his hands reaching to my breast. He squeezed and his grip was so strong that it made me yelp a little. Pain and pleasure washed through my chest and I could feel my nipples stiffening.

“You know Dean,” said Stacey, her soft hands sliding up inside my shirt, “I don’t feel like going out at all. Let’s stay in and play with our new friend.”

Dean pulled away from kissing me and I bathed in his big, powerful smile.

“Great idea,” he said, and then plunged back into kissing me, his tongue pushing beyond my lips, into my mouth, exploring me. And at that moment I felt a sudden slackening of pressure as Stacey found my bra and expertly unhooked it. The bra slipped down, my hard nipples began to press against my shirt, and I felt helpless as Dean’s hands explored my breasts, as though I was already naked.

“Let’s put on a show for Dean,” said Stacey. She slipped onto the floor and crooked her finger at me to follow. I pulled away from Dean and dropped down to kneel opposite his wife. Without warning, she took hold of my shirt and pulled it up, over my arms and over my head, and flung it to the side, exposing my breasts. Her eyes lit up.

“Oh wow, Dean, these are amazing.”

Stacey reached out and grabbed my breasts with both hands, squeezing and pressing them and I gasped at the myriad sensations that shot through my body. Her touch was both teasing and forceful and she was forcing incredible pleasures from my naked breasts. As she held them, she leaned forward and began to kiss me. Once more I drifted into a world of pleasure, my eyes closed, forgetting all about Dean as I enjoyed the lingering tenderness and hot passion of Stacey’s kissing.

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